"I've had worse," Lambert says, with a shrug. Not fae worse, admittedly, but it is what it is. "Just make sure you're actually still around when I get back."

Since he's at least familiar with where the medical supplies are, he doesn't ask permission before beelining for a drawer, tugging it open to pull out a roll of gauze and start wrapping it around his arm just so his arm isn't a sopping mess of blood. Not that he'd normally care about appearances or whatever, but...

"I'll be back." With that, he ducks out of the medical tent to head for the Ringmaster. It's perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes before he returns, the corners of his mouth tight, but not because of pain.

"Let's get this over with," he says, shortly, in lieu of any greeting. "I'm ready when you are."